


and a hundred percent reason to remember the name

by callunavulgari



Series: Holiday Writing Challenge '12 [20]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Domestic, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, Other, POV Second Person, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Quadrant Confusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/callunavulgari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Just wear this,” John tells you, flinging something long and blue at your face. You blink at where he’s reclining on his strange human sleeping platform, the sheets rucked up beneath his body. From the floor in front of him, Gamzee glances away from the television long enough to laugh at the look on your face.</p><p>The scarf is soft and it smells like John, and yes, you think it may warm your chilled neck, but— “I’ll look like Ampora wearing this,” you scoff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and a hundred percent reason to remember the name

**Author's Note:**

> Day 20 of the Holiday Writing Challenge on tumblr [over here](http://giraffe-tier.tumblr.com/post/35469673249/winter-drawing-writing-challenge). Prompt was 'scarves'. Turns out that writing Karkat/John red feelings is a lot more difficult than just writing Dave/Karkat hateporn. Who knew.

As it turns out, the humans aren’t as peaceful when they feel that their planet is threatened. Humanity as a whole isn’t quite the way the kids make it out to be, but then, you had expected that. Twelve trolls are easy to hide on a planet as big as the earth, so they do what they have to in order to survive. Most of you stay with Jade on her island, but you and Gamzee go with John.  
  
There it isn’t quite so easy to hide, but you’re lucky. It’s easier to hide under the veil of night, and you aren’t too inclined to be out in the day anyway. Even if the humans’ sun doesn’t burn as bright as Alternia’s did, it’s hard to train yourself out of generations of instinct. So when you do venture out of John’s hive, it’s easy to mask your skin with the light of the moon—easy to hide your horns under the soft fabric of one of John’s hoodies.  
  
You’re told that the cold is natural where John lives—that during the winter months the roads will freeze and the sky will bleed white. They tell you this, but it doesn’t prepare you for the way your skin turns to ice in the chill air—how your breath fogs the air before you.  
  
“Just wear this,” John tells you, flinging something long and blue at your face. You blink at where he’s reclining on his strange human sleeping platform, the sheets rucked up beneath his body. From the floor in front of him, Gamzee glances away from the television long enough to laugh at the look on your face.  
  
The scarf is soft and it smells like John, and yes, you think it may warm your chilled neck, but— “I’ll look like Ampora wearing this,” you scoff. The image of yourself wearing something like Ampora’s finest clothes has you wrinkling your nose, making retching noises into your fist.  
  
You have your own clothes by now—clothes that John and his lusus have purchased for you and your moirail, but you still find that you prefer John’s clothes. They’re softer—worn enough that they feel smooth against your skin. And yes, they smell like John, which makes you feel almost as safe as being confined within Gamzee’s arms.  
  
John rolls his eyes at you and taps one of Gamzee’s horns, gesturing for the remote control. A sweep ago, the touch would have made Gamzee snarl—sending you rushing to shooshpap him into not eviscerating the fragile human. Now Gamzee just gives John a dopey smile and passes the remote over. John pauses the television just as Nicholas Cage is opening his mouth to say something and the expression is ridiculous enough that both of them dissolve into chuckles.  
  
When John has recovered, he grins at you, sliding from the bed so he can take the scarf away from you and before you can protest, tucking it around your neck. You scowl at him and then at Gamzee, who mutters something like “motherfucking miracles, brother,” before getting to his feet and vacating the room under the guise of ‘getting some more motherfucking popseeds.’  
  
You keep frowning in his direction even after the door has closed, leaving you trapped in a room with John’s fingers pressed warm and soft against your throat. If it had been another troll in his position, you probably would have culled them—claws too close to your throat and teeth to close to your eyes. With John, you just let yourself relax as he finishes fluffing the scarf up, until it’s covering your mouth and the very bottom of your ears.  
  
He grins at you, eyes big and blue and you hate him even as your cheeks flush red. “See?” he chirps. “Nice and warm.”  
  
You stare at him for a moment, weighing your options before you lean in and kiss him.  
  
To your surprise, he kisses back. It’s a brief kiss, a simple touch of your mouths, but it’s your first so it’s good.  
  
When he pulls back to look at you, his cheeks are as red as your own, a soft little smile aimed in your direction. “I thought you’d never make a move,” he tells you, chewing on his lip as his expression turns bashful. “I still don’t get troll romance much and Gamzee wouldn’t tell me anything about it. Something about ‘motherfucking palebro secrets.’ After a while I thought I’d read you wrong.”  
  
You fight down the brief surge of love for Gamzee, because this moment isn’t about him. You roll your eyes at John, and tell him, “Jade could have seen my flushcrush on you from her _island_ , John.”  
  
He’s so oblivious that half the time you don’t know if you’re red or black for him. It’s annoying as fuck. At the moment though, you’re all red, flushed right to your thundering bloodpusher, so you pull him back down for another kiss. If you know him at all, you know that Gamzee will give you some time alone, but just in case you’re wrong, you might as well get as much kissing done as possible.  
  
And if more than that happens, well. You sure aren’t going to kiss and tell.


End file.
